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RP Promised Land: Espionage - Chasing Dawnlight

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While following Squeakies to the vehicle, Brigid considered what could be in the box. She knew better than to open it now and find out, but she could still theorize. It could be related to her military career or her medical knowledge. There's no way to know until the time comes, she decided. She was impressed by how quickly Squeakies hotwired the vehicle. "That was nearly as impressive as your figure," Brigid said mischievously as she climbed into the seat beside her.

Driving in silence wasn't her style, so she tried to think of something to talk about while watching for any tails or suspicious persons. "You were in the NSMC, right? You ever get to kill any Squids? I was a Medic for a while before I became a Doctor. Hope those bastards are gone for good. After seeing firsthand what they do to people.." She sighed and shook her head. "After they bombed the Senate I couldn't do it anymore. Got the hell out as soon as I finished Med School."
 
Ayla felt a faint smile as veered off from the rest of the group. The morning chill and rain had thankfully persuaded most of the people to go out in over-coats and the like, making it much easier to pick-pocket. No need for fake accents and stories today. She began making her way through a cluster of people huddled next to the restrooms. She kept her eyes straight as her hands deftly invaded some of the more outwards coat pockets. As soon as she felt a ticket in her grasp, her hands retreated back to her as she pushed her way inside in the women's bathroom.

Barely a moment later, the thief walked back out with her hoodie now red and the sunglasses stowed away in the deep pocket of her hoodie with the ticket. She surrendered her weapon to the guns locker, hoping to pilfer it later on the mission before moving to blend in with one of the groups ready for boarding.
 
"Part of a tank crew. Made it all the way up tank commander." Squeakies spoke with pride as she drove through the nearly empty streets to a good location where they could respond and get to the train incase they needed it. "Put a few HEDP up their arses and a few sabot rounds to give them a nice cremation funeral. Then the Squids got smart and went home once they knew the Groundhog and Crew were gunning for them sorry pieces of misused genetic material of creation!"

Squeakies glanced at Brigid. "You look hot yourself. Wouldn't mind giving you a test drive." With a wink and a few grinding of the gears. "Cant find'em, grind'em. While grinding, grind a few pounds off." She said with a soft laugh, "Double clutching piece of crap..." Directed at the truck they was driving.
 
There was a loud whine of metal on metal as the worn old shutters on the train platform started to open. The high-vis clad workers began to file in, only for aged public announcement system to crackle into life, with a loud distorted voice ordering them to stand down while security personnel board. An unpopular decision apparently, as the mercenaries (and one of the group's own in disguise) began to march in... Dirty looks abound before a half-empty cheap travel cup coffee splatters on the side of the big ID-SOL commander's helmet. A very brave and foolish worker getting a few laughs which rapidly die down. The Crimson Assurance commander stomping over and swiping a heavy backhand against the poor fool's face, resulting in a loud crack of snapping bone... The quiet ensuing revealing a clattering of loosed teeth

There's a beeping noise at the check-in as the mercs are allowed on board without checking their weapons, a second team stepping out to be relieved by the new shift, and begun to load up in the armored transport. The workers step over their gurgling toothless co-worker and check their guns, looking for anyone else who might be out of place, or even maybe working for these guys in plainclothes...

The Team starts to get a few looks themselves, especially when the ticket vendor starts to blab about how someone not normally on this shift checked in with a military ID... Alistair had saved money on the pass for sure, though. A little extra profit made as he received his pass, at least.

Comparatively, Ayla got the right idea, and subtly boarded with some ease. One poor woman running wearing a climbing harness running out late from the bathroom and dejectedly being sent away as the turnstiles refused to yield to her. She shouted loudly about needing the work.

Cargo Bay:

Meanwhile, safely out of viewshot Nicky has a much friendlier reception from a young but rather unattractive luggage handler who seems to practically be about 80 percent adam's apple. Kid had a neck on him, but it made it all the more obvious as he swallowed hard at the unaccustomed appearance of something with curves handing him a fistful of money, and a bag full of... Something (Dildos? Certainly not guns, heavens no!). He bit, and bit hard at this as he staggered away with the bag to put it in the luggage.

"It's... it's no problem Miss!" he squeaks, voice cracking. "I'll... I'll just get your retrieval ticket..."

A few moments pass, before he runs on back, handing Nicky a small metallic swipe-card scrabbled with what seems to be his communicator number and the name "Thorbjorn 'Thunderkeg' Bjornsson", despite the ID on a lanyard around his neck reading "Ernie Blomkinder". Maybe she could find a use for someone who worked on the loading crew for the day.

On the Road Again:

The Driver and the Doctor found their part to be far easier and safer at the very least. The truck chugged along, making its way through the rain and a lack of early morning traffic. The case was mysterious, for certain and bore a remotely operated electronic lock, but the true mystery was that a few cars back, the armored Crimson Assurance van started to pull out and seemingly follow the team's lifted transport...

It was possible that the armored car was just going in the same direction, but it was also possible that something else was up.
 
On the Road Again:

Squeakies picked up the vehicle following them. She did a few turns from the chosen route to the parking spot that would be their wait point till needed. "We may have picked up a tail." She told Brigid.

She turned at the next intersection and left the road that was semi following the train's track that is was going to take. Passing up the maintenance road that she had intended to use as awaiting area till needed.
 
Daman graciously took Jacob's communication number. glad to have it in case something unexpected happened. He parted from the group immediately, leaving while they retrieved their weapons from the trunk. He didn't want to be associated with this group. He was just another traveler.

His only weapon was hidden neatly inside the concealed pocket of his coat he didn't pay for custom tailoring for no reason after all. He approached the ticket kiosk and prepared to board. Daman remained relaxed and pleasant as he passed over his credit chit to be scanned. "What's with the extra security this morning. Not that I'm complaining but I'm not too keen on strangers walking around with guns during my commute. Are those men with transit? They're so frightening." He asked the man who charged his account. "I haven't seen them around before." He commented in a friendly voice. His eyes glowed in the dim light as they exchanged funds for tickets.

" Oh sir, I'll need a transfer for my ticket this line doesn't go all the way to my new office. " he explained while paying the extra few credits for a longer ride. "Thanks a ton darling I nearly forgot that I'd need this today." He continued to make friendly banter before he joined the turnstile line to board the train. If he was pulled aside to be scanned he would have to lie to the workers for the fifth or so time telling them that he had unique physiology that reacted poorly when exposed to 'harmful' radiation and that it was also harmful to the various parasites that called him home. He had pitched quite a fit the first time they had tried to scan him a year or so ago when he was traveling unarmed during an unrelated mercenary job, just to plant the idea that he was a harmless and very friendly, hypochondriac mutant alien thing. Nothing to worry about.
 
Cargo Bay

Nicky smiled after receiving the slip for her cargo, she took note of the man's name and what the slip read and was even more happy. "Thank you so much Earnie~!" She put her hands on the man's shoulders and gave him a kiss on the cheek before stepping back and moving to head off. However she came to a sudden stop and turned back, something had just struck her memory. "By the way, there are some pretty nasty looking people in line, what are people like that doing on the train? They make me really nervous." She kept her voice cutesy and high, trying to give off the appearance of someone delicate.
 
On the Road:

As Squeakies turned off, she found some slight relief to see that the armored car didn't turn to follow... Although after a few moments waiting, one could see that there was something a bit odd going on. There was an odd repetition in the people on the street walking by the truck.

At least three people: A woman walking a kyoto poodle, one apparently homeless man asking for change, and a rather non-descript man in a business suit under an altogether too fancy leather overcoat. All three of them were walking back and forth at semi-regular intervals as if to keep an eye on this truck that had disappeared.

By the looks of things, whoever was doing the transportation had thought to establish a perimeter of lookouts in addition to just armed guards.

Meet Cute with Ernie and Nicky:

Nicky could practically hear a loud snap as whatever fragile courage kept this kid going crumbled all at once. Ernie's lower lip wobbled up and down just a little as he made a really not subtle grab at his worker ID... But all this was relieved as Nicky planted a little kiss on him. Ernie smiled as if he'd just seen the sun rise for the first time in weeks (which for a man working these early hours, it was possible he hadn't seen it in weeks), and tucked away his ID.

"O-oh. Those security guys?" He looked over his shoulder into the loading bay, "I don't think they're headbusters for the Dockbosses. Jojums said they're guarding prisoners or hostages or something; peeked in there when they changed groups and saw a bunch of ladies with bags over their heads and stuff."

Turnstyle Tango:

As he went through the motions, Daman found that the extremely late shift on Funky City public transport was more inclined to treat him in particular... A bit better at least. No wary stares, or mutterings behind his back... Well, a lot of muttering behind his back. But a lot of it in terms of that guy has sweet horn implants. Establishment of cover, and a little small talk and suddenly Daman had successfully separated himself from the rest of the group in terms of filthy looks.

His reaction to the scanners was met with a bit of a stink-eye from the one manning the scanner in front of the turnstile, but at the mention of parasites and the shouts of all the people behind him in line? He was let through armed. Albeit reluctantly... The other half of his questioning had mixed results: The man operating the ticket booth could only shrug and mutter something about some dry dock boss hiring goons to bust unionists... But the woman behind him in line? She had more to say.

"Transit cops got little badges they have to wear 'round their necks." She said.

She was short, with lily-white skin spattered in freckles across her button nose, and short ginger hair. Thick baggy jeans, a toolbelt with a hardhat connected to it, and a high-vis vest over a zippered hoodie, all worn over the type of body that was forged pounding sheets of metal onto the hull of a ship so fancy she'd never be able to afford to ride it when it was finished. She checked her gun at the locker and stepped through the scanner without a fuss.

"They probably work for Shaggas Drydocks. The bastards running it hire a bunch of security guys to look tough and hang around the yards. This is the first time they got sent to watch us come to work. You gotta watch out for the ones in plainclothes as well. They're the ones who gut you if they hear you say the word 'strike'..." She shot a dirty look over at the rest of Daman's own group. Making sure Daman got the (wrong?) idea of what to look out for. "Since you're new in the Quais, you watch out for them. They don't like competition."
 
:: On the Road ::

Squeakies didn't like the set up. They had every angle covered. She wouldn't be surprised if they had a fleet of assault crafts flying over head of the train once it left the station. This was going to be harder, but not impossible. Just a few more people were going to get killed. And a good chance themselves.

She looked at the time and frowned a bit. Then sighed. There wasn't much she could do about it at the moment.
 
On the road..

Noticing the three repeating pedestrians, Brigid became concerned. "You see them too. We could try to lose them. Or I could kill them, but that would only bring more guys." She frowned, twirling a finger in her hair absently. "We could also pretend to be a couple out on a date, but as fun as that could be for us, it's not a likely story in this car." The Doctor said with a sigh.

"That Alistair man could create a distraction, I bet. Think we should ask him for assistance?" She asked Squeakies with concern. "You're the expert at driving, I'll leave it up to you. Killing and healing is my specialty. You want me to get rid of 'em, just say the word."
 
On the Train

With the dirty looks being given to the group, Ayla decided to break off and head towards the dining car as she boarded. The less associated she seemed with some of them, the less probability she'd get pinched if something went wrong during this little heist.

As she pushed her way in past the other groups that were boarding, she made her way into the dining car and up to the counter. "Need the darkest and strongest brew you got with some sugar." She said as she threw 10 DA as pulled out her communicator. "In dining car, let me know if you need anything." she texted Damien as she waited for her coffee.
 
Train

Jacob had seemed to blend right in, he threw out typical morning grunts and the occasional pats on the shoulders to those who made eye contact and small welcoming nods. He stayed within the group rather than on the outside, that way he wouldn't misstep or miss a turn. Thanks to his off time spent on current events he was able to keep up with most inane chatter if it developed.

He kept his eyes out for security features, cameras, etc. Also, exits. Making sure to tryand walk the path towards the regular cars of the train to ensure he could get to his backup if things went wrong.
 
Dining Car:

Ayla seemed to have the right idea: Blending in was key. As she peeled off and went to get a coffee it seemed to add her into a column entitled 'another person with a shit job'. The Dining car was a cramped and dingy counter, lit with way too many neon signs. The lone overworked barista took Ayla's money and returned a full 9 DA. She was a young woman with black hair tied back under a bandanna, and a gleaming cybernetic arm which seemed to double as the espresso machine. One could only hope that that thing was switched out at the end of shift, since it was a depressing notion to have a lost limb replaced with a bad coffee dispenser.

And indeed it was bad coffee, overly bitter, with only two good things about it: The lack of cost, and the kick up the ass it gave a working body. Ayla started to feel awake as hell, after just a couple of sips.

"You're goin' to want ta drink that slow, girly." The woman staffing the dining counter said gently, already ratcheting in a fresh batch of coffee grounds into her own forearm.

Why you have a guy on the inside:

Jacob found the entrance easy. His new crew were given a wide berth, and allowed fully through the security checkpoint despite being visibly armed. The ID-SOL captain of the Crimson Assurance detachment leading the way as he shouldered his way onto the train sideways just to fit through the doors. Weaving through nearly empty passenger compartments, giving the dining car staff a glare which sent her into a storage closet to avoid the security team. Completing the full march through two cargo cars full of heavy industrial equipment and hull plates, he made his way into the post this group was defending.

On the way he managed to spot a few useful things: The passenger and dining cars were equipped with cameras in every compartment, while cargo was empty of them. The empty gun-lockers which had yet to be filled were locked in place in a cargo area right behind dining. He could even spot Nicky's duffel bag lovingly tucked in place where it would be unloaded first.

It seemed to mostly be some sort of medical equipment... Big pressurized canisters full marked with serial numbers and complicated instructions, various crates varying in size from briefcase to coffin, and a small team of what looked like a doctor and two burly orderlies who were sitting towards a window at the back having a smoke. One of the two orderlies had a freshly dressed bandage on his massive forearm that still blotted fresh blood. There were, however, no visible prisoners.

"Problems?" The ID-SOL captain asked the doctor, to which there was no reply... He asked again louder, before stomping a foot on the floor of the secure car towards the rear of the train in frustration. The doctor turning around and waved his hands to try and communicate there was no issue here. The Crimson Assurance captain growled something about someone kidding about them being deaf, before assigning everyone positions: Jacob stood down the carriage, setting watch out a window with instructions to keep an eye on the sky. Apparently they expected if any trouble came, it would come by air.

Then there was a crackle over the CA comms.

"Godfrey picked up two girls stealing a truck on perimeter three's cameras" A thick sounding voice said to the entire security team in the rear car. "Might be a problem, might not. Plum and Weese are already over there, but by the sounds of things they've just pulled over and aren't doing anything. Probably been out drinking all night and stopped to fuck after a little joyride..."
 
Alistair quickly boarded the train and began moving towards the front of the train. He got as close as he possibly could to the head of the car as he could and found a seat.

Alistair then took out several folders of reports and quickly made himself look like an overworked analyst. He moved and opened his datapad and started to search for wireless connections to snag onto and work his way into the trains systems. He loaded up a host of viruses and Malware to gain quick access of the train systems. With any luck he would be able to give the others a upper hand.
 
OMGhax:

Of all the crew hired on, Alistair proves to be the most in the line of fire as he sits down. Just about the entire population of dock workers gives him a wide berth. A perimeter of his own forms, with very few boarding the train willing to sit near him. Whatever people are saying about him it actually seems to make those around him... Afraid of him?

That would possibly prove to be a sword that cuts both ways, but it wasn't a strict disadvantage.

His active search complete comes up with numerous private network connections from wireless devices; the workers' connections to the interNEP. One wireless connection belonged to the train itself, a public network not connected to anything physically on the train. More something that was intended for use by passengers of the sort Alistair was pretending to be. Another similar network was on the train station platform, similarly disconnected.

By the looks of things, to connect to the train's systems themselves he'd need to physically jack into the train's closed systems. At a guess Alistair might deduce that ports to access the closed circuit network were in all likelihood located in the drivers' compartment, the conductors' cabin towards the end of the train, or maybe in some of the maintenance hatches at either end of a car. The first two would require him to get access to closed portions of the train, but the maintenance hatches were freely available if someone could open the lock. Of course with his current level of scrutiny, it would be a danger to mess with the trains' systems in such a public area.

One other problem came from his probing malware: His datapad would come up with several notices reading simply 'this file already exists? Do you wish to overwrite these files?' Someone out there had already installed several of the same tools he was using to monitor the trains' networks. By the lack of reaction, it was unlikely anyone had noticed his own intrusion, but someone else was in here monitoring these same systems.
 
On the Road

"Let's wait on the killins till it is absolutely necessary to do such things." Squeakies spoke thoughtfully as she moved the truck to another location. Not as ideal as the one she planned on using. But close enough to be there in a timely manner. "As for the distraction. Lets wait for the signal."

Squeakies knew she had to be patient, but waiting was never her thing. Not with a lot of people involved in this sort of operation. She fidgeted and yawned widely. With the truck parked, she settled in for the wait and to catch up on some much needed sleep. "Hurry up and wait..." She grumbled softly.
 
Cargo Bay

"That sounds scary.." She replied to Ernie, playing up her fear of the situation. "You'd protect me if anything bad was happening right?" She continued her cutesy act trying to win him over, at least until there was the loud stomp and her attention drawn that way. Noticing the security there, she quickly changed her facial expression to one of worry and panic. "I..I think I'm going to go now." She gave one more nervous passing look at the large ID-SOL before heading off quickly like a frightened girl.

Once she had gotten herself back to the ticket stands she bought herself a ticket using cash so that she couldn't be tracked and then headed for the turnstyles and waited her turn, boarding casually .
 
Dining Car

One sip and Ayla felt like she could outrun the train if needed and could feel last night's dinner coming up before suppressing it with another sip of the coffee. She deliberately tried to ignore the security team as they passed through the dining car. As much as she wanted to reach over maybe snag keycard off or something off them, she didn't want to risk getting decked by an ID-SOL or shot just yet. She simple kept her attention on the bitter black coffee and drummed on the counter to keep her hands occupied.
 
Getting on the tracks, just to get off them:

As the last of the workers boarded, along with the stragglers of this group of soon to be thieves; a lone air horn blows from the rear car of the cargo and worker flooded train, and is answered in kind by a return blast from the front. The cargo cars are sealed, and the loading crew crawls aboard.

Ernie gives his solemn vow to protect his new lady love, all hope swelling up in his heart that the future will be bright for him as he boards the rearmost car. The coffee cyborg can be seen loading up a strange powder that glows white under the neon lights of the dining car into her cappucinarm, giving Ayla the impression that the effects of the coffee are far from caffeine related. Out on the streets, from a side mirror on their stolen truck Squeakies and Brigid spy an approaching homeless beggar who had been apparently circling the block for as long as they had parked here, maybe hoping to take a peek inside at two women on a 'joyride'.

All is loaded, all aboard. With a magnetic whine, the train begins its rather cumbersome acceleration. The work day has begun for all passengers.

At once, everyone's communicators chime with a simple demand from Newhouse:

"Report on situation."
 
::On the Road ::

"Awaiting word for pick up," Squeakies responded softly back via radio on the proper freq. She watched the begger pass by the truck, taking a glance at them. She stretched which caused her physique to be seen more clearly even with the military shirt on.

She looked over at Brigid. "You have a name to share?" She admired Brigid's physique covertly while awaiting for the signal to proceed.
 
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